Hell Of A Trip - Another Ambulance Ride
by IDIC88
Summary: Missing scene from 7x03. Dean feels quite bad when they speed away in the ambulance, running from the Sioux Falls Hospital. Bobby tries to take care of him and unconscious Sam. H/C, hurt Dean, hurt Sam, some panic and drugged Dean.
1. Chapter 1

_Obviously the characters are not mine and I don't earn money with them. No copyright infringement intended. I just borrow them to play a bit – with care and respect.  
I am very new to this fandom, in case you find any contentual mistakes, I'd be happy if you point them out to me._

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 **Chapter 1**

"Come on, Dean…. Come on Dean!" Bobby pressed through his teeth.

A moment later, the passenger door of the ambulance opened and Bobby felt a rush of panic when he wondered if there had been another one of those monsters he hadn't seen before.

But when he turned his head he saw Dean climbing into the vehicle.

While he fumbled for the gear shift he cursed that his hands wouldn't move faster.

"Go. Go. Go. Go!" Dean panted.

He stepped on the gas pedal and the ambulance speed away.

In the rear view mirror he could see the two fake doctors stop running after them, realizing the vehicle couldn't be stopped by foot.

He didn't slow down, but some of the tension left his body.

As soon as they reached the main street he reduced their speed.

No need to risk an accident.

Now he had time to look Dean over and he saw him clinging to the open window frame and the panel in front of him. He wasn't buckled in and his eyes weren't really focused, but his knuckles where white from trying to hang on.

"Dean? You okay?"

It took some long seconds until Dean grunted, "Yeah."

"You don't look okay, what's going on?"

"Barely made it down the hall…" Dean panted, his voice hoarse, "Hate morphine… makes me slow…"

"Yeah, but… you might not been able to make it down the hall without it. You're in quite some pain."

"Almost got me killed."

Bobby tried to focus his attention to both, the street and his friend.

He heard Dean breathe hard and when he shot him another glance saw he was swaying in the seat and blinking frantically to clear his head.

"Adrenaline wearing off?... Lean back so you don't fall into the dashboard. Buckle in."

The younger man leaned back with a jerky movement and his head collided with the wall behind the seat with a soft 'thud'.

Bobby winced and then saw out of the corner of his eye that Dean was fumbling with the seatbelt.

He hadn't had time to plan this escape thoroughly. Right now they were heading down the main road to leave the town as fast as they could, it was the opposite direction his home had been.

He was frantically trying to figure out where to go with an unconscious Sam. They'd need a doctor sooner or later.

Then he remembered one of Rufus' save houses near the border, but it was a long way to get there, probably 18 hours just driving time.

They'd need to plan this carefully, switch cars, show Sam's MRI results to a trustworthy doctor, give him the chance to get some rest.

"Fetch the medical file, it's at your feet and read me the results of the head scan…"

When Dean didn't bent over to get the folder he looked over once more.

Dean was still trying to buckle himself in.

"Hey?"

The younger hunter lifted his gaze but his eyes were glazed over and he seemed to have difficulties focusing on anything.

"Dean, you're with me?"

They were outside of town now, heading down an empty rural road. Bobby spotted a widening of the street and took his foot off the gas pedal, the vehicle started to slow down.

"Hey, Dean?"

Dean had frozen mid-movement, belt in one hand, fumbling for the connector with the other.

Bobby stopped the bulky car just in time to see Dean's eyes roll back into his head.

A moment later he slumped forwards, with a soft grunt.

Bobby managed to catch him just in time to prevent further injuries, but the sudden heavy weight made him curse.

"Dammit, boy."

Dean has completely blacked out.

With quite some effort Bobby managed to heave him upright again, then leaned him back against the opposite corner between the door and the seat. The seatbelt wouldn't hold him upright properly, so this was the only way to go to prevent his head from rolling uncontrollable once they continued their ride.

He reached over and checked Dean's pulse, it was a bit fast. Then he placed the back of his hand against his cheek. The clammy and pale skin of Dean's face made Bobby wonder if they should go to the next hospital ASAP.

He fetched Sam's medical file.

Since he wasn't a doctor he couldn't do much, but at least he'd know if there was the need to act fast due to more serious problems.

But the report made him relax, it just said: severe concussion - in medical slang of course, but due to the amount of injuries that came with a hunter's lifestyle Bobby was familiar with this kind of medical terms.

He sighed, due to relief, but nevertheless he had two unconscious men in the ambulance who both needed care and meds.

Since they had stopped already, he'd take his time to check on Sam. There hadn't been time before. He exited the car and went in the back.

Sam's condition seemed to be unchanged.

At least they had a huge amount of medical supplies with them now, but they should get rid of the vehicle as soon as possible, it would raise suspicion if they parked it at a motel.

He checked the interior and found two paramedic rain jackets on a hook in the corner. He switched one of them with his suit jacket and found on a matching cap in the storage overhead.

While he walked back to the driver seat he adjusted the width and put the cap on.

"Dean?"

There was no response and he once more checked the older brother's pulse, it had calmed down a bit.

"Okay, here we go."

They drove north and Bobby tried to remember which motel on the route might allow him to hide an ambulance nearby.

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 _Some feedback would make my day._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The first thing Dean's fuzzy mind registered was the searing pain engulfing him.

Desperately, he tried to breathe through it and flow with it.

He had been in intense pain often enough in his life to know it was the only way to survive its assault in the long run - or in a dangerous situation.

Although he tried hard to gather intel about what was happening the persistent agony blocked most of his efforts.

He was hovering in a grey mist of desperation, not able to open his eyes, sense his surroundings, remember where he was, or what had happened.

Panic mingled with the aches and heightened them.

"Dean, slow down, boy."

Bobby's voice.

A rush of relief went through him.

If Bobby was there it was only half as bad as it could be. Bobby had experience, he'd take care of things.

Bobby wouldn't let them die.

Bobby would help him, protect him… them.

Where was Sam?

When he tried to open his eyes once more, something beat him to it.

Rough hands lifted one of his eyelids, then the other, and he was gasping from the additional pain a bright white light caused by mercilessly burning right into his brain.

He tried to batter the hands away but he found his movements were so weak it barely had any effect.

"That's it, come on. Wake up."

Someone was slapping him.

Since the pain from his leg was keeping him from breathing properly, the minute pain took a moment to register.

His leg…

With an uncomfortable rush the memories came back.

Sam was in danger!

They had fled from Sioux Falls Hospital in an ambulance. Only minutes after he had woken up, Bobby had entered his hospital room and given him quite a shock.

Now he experienced that shock of realizing his surrogate father was alive a second time. The relief once more made him gasp.

"You're alive," he slurred.

"I thought we already pinpointed that," came the gruff reply.

Dean managed a weak smile, glad to have the older man around and taking care of things.

Right, they had managed to sped away from the Leviathan-driven meat suit of a former doctor who was trying to kill them.

"Sam?"

"Still out."

Dean tried to sit up, he needed to make sure his sibling was alright.

But he couldn't, he felt weak as a kitten, his hands were trembling.

"Hush, stay down for a bit longer, or you'll pass out again."

It took him a moment to remember that when they had left town he was about to read Sam's medical report, but before he could do so the obnoxious rushing sound of approaching unconsciousness had distracted him.

While his vision had started to develop growing black spots he had desperately tried to fight the approaching darkness, but in the end it was no use.

After a few more moments that felt like an eternity he had blacked out, unable to stop it, at the end of his tether.

"Sam…" he tried to sit up once more.

"He's alright," Bobby mumbled while he held Dean down, who now realized he was on a very uncomfortable uneven surface, one leg dangling, bent at the knee.

When he finally managed to force his eyes open he saw he was still in the ambulance, spread across both front seats, his head on the passenger seat, his butt half on the driver seat, half under the steering wheel.

Kneeling on the seat on one leg was Bobby, leaning over him.

The pain in his broken shin seemed to get even worse.

He closed his eyes again, trying in vain to keep the agony at bay.

Bobby reached for his wrist and checked his pulse, unnerved, he tried to jerk his hand away but was unable to succeed.

"His head… what ab't his head?" Dean slurred, trying to focus on something more important.

"It's going to be alright, just a bad concussion…"

His tone of voice was indicating Bobby was trying to soothe him – rough and tough Bobby, who rarely wasted time with such nonsense.

But it made Dean feel even more pathetic.

"How bad is the pain?"

"'ve been better."

"Alright, I need you to sit up – slowly. Don't need another swan dive here."

Without waiting for an answer Bobby slowly started to pull him into an upright position, supporting his shoulders.

Dean groaned in pain before he could shut his mouth. His ribs were protesting viciously, flooding him with even more pain.

"Yeah, sorry. Couple of fractured rips," Bobby said, empathy in his voice.

"Hit one o' your f'ckin' jun'cars," Dean managed to press out through clenched teeth.

"Here, swallow these."

Bobby held out two round pills and a small bottle of water.

"Painkillers?"

The older man nodded, "Fast acting. Come on."

When Dean tried to pick them up he almost dropped the pills, his movements were clumsy and out of sync.

The other man helped him by dropping the pills into his open hand and guiding the hand to his mouth, he then unscrewed the bottle and held it to Dean's mouth, allowing him to take small sips.

"Alright," he said as soon as Dean was finished. "Let's get you inside, son. Sam's already there."

It seemed to take ages until Dean was standing next to the bulky vehicle, one arm over Bobby's shoulders and then they started hobbling towards the motel room.

The ambulance was parked with its back right in front of the door, but the twenty feet to the door turned out to be quite an obstacle. Luckily the parking lot was completely empty and the view blocked with quite a lot of overgrown un-manicured vegetation. The motel looked rundown even for Dean's standards.

While trying to get into the ambulance in haste, Dean had let the crutches fall to the ground, so now he had nothing to lean on except the other man.

When they finally reached one of the queen sized beds in the room Dean was bathed in sweat and panting heavily.

The intense pain made him feel sick.

Nothing new, this happened when it reached a certain level.

With great effort he managed to fumble for Bobby's sleeve, he didn't dare to open his mouth, afraid he'd hurl right then and there.

Bobby must have understood because a moment later something was placed in his lab and his head was pushed over it not too gently.

Dean was barely aware what was happening around him in the minutes that followed, the one thing he felt for certain was a strong arm behind his back, holding him upright and the dim realization that he was puking his guts out for what felt like hours.

"There goes the painkiller," Bobby mumbled nearby.

Finally, what must have been a trashcan was taken away.

With great care Bobby helped him remove his jacket and shoe, then supported his head while he lowered him down. A pillow was shoved under the heavy cast.

The bone deep aches in his leg and torso were robbing him of the ability to think clearly. And also to move properly.

It fucking hurt!

But there were more pressing matters.

"Sam?" he croaked.

"He's on the gurney, next to you. He's gonna be fine. Don't move!"

Dean turned his throbbing head and blinked a few times until his vision was clear enough to see his baby brother strapped into a gurney that was parked behind the other bed.

"You stay where you are, I'm gonna search the ambulance for more painkillers."

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 _I'd love to get feedback._

 _I'm not a native speaker and trying to improve my English. Hope it was not too hard to read with all the grammar mistakes._

 _If you like this story you might also like my other two stories, because I am a H/C junkie and love to use that in my writing._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dean must have lost consciousness again because a moment later something cold was in the crook of his right arm.

A foreign tinny voice was in the room and Dean looked around, disoriented and alarmed, not really sure what was happening.

A strong hand wrapped around his shoulder.

"Hold still, I'm giving you a shot."

"Who's there?"

"No one, I have Hannah on the phone, she's a doctor."

"Okay, now you fasten the tourniquet around his upper arm," the voice came out of the speaker of Bobby's cell phone.

It took a moment until Dean understood what was happening.

Good, so painkiller on the way, the intense agony in his leg was driving him nuts.

He once more tried to breathe through the pain when his dizzy mind registered more talking and then a sharp pinch in his arm.

It took a long moment in which Bobby obviously tried to hit the vein and was only moderately successful but then finally he sucked in air in surprise when an odd warm feeling hit his body and seemed to wrap him in dull grey cotton.

Shit, that was fast!

When he realized he must have been given morphine he cursed.

"Fuck, no!"

Morphine was not good, he hated it.

It took away alertness, which was risky.

Why use a drug that had so many nasty side effects when there were so many other potent painkillers that caused less drowsiness, less disorientation and less being high as a kite?

In his line of work morphine was a not a good option, it was dangerous.

No place was safe enough to use it, hospitals were not safe at all as they had seen during the past days once more.

"Shit, don't knock me out, Bobby!"

He tried to sit up.

But once more he was pressed into the bedding, this time though the hands that were holding him down were strong, but they held him with tender care.

He remembered the stupid EMT in the ambulance, who hadn't listen to a single word he had said, risking his and Sammy's life by his ignorance, right before giving him something that had caused him to black out. Dean assumed it was just because he had talked back.

And then it had happened a second time, at the hospital.

They had knocked him out when they set his leg. Although he was partially grateful for that - the first try to realign his bones had hurt enough - he was also angry because they should have _kept_ him under, not give it a first try after he came to.

Incompetent bastards.

Or had he woken because it was the second or third try?

He would not allow to be switched off unasked like that again.

"Dean, stop it," Bobby ordered gruffly.

"Fuck, no…"

"Yes, you need some rest, boy, relax."

He was weak as a kitten already, but then the drug hit him full force.

One of Bobby's hands shifted from his shoulder to his forehead, pressing down gently.

"Hey! Relax!"

A long and deep exhale later, he felt his body surrendering to the drug and Bobby's grip slackened.

Not just morphine then.

"There you go."

He tried to fight it for some long seconds, but then whatever-it-was inevitably dragged him under hard and fast.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It was a few long hours later when Bobby finally could sit down for the first time.

The sun had set and he had managed to get himself a drink and unwrap his sandwich.

The past hours had been filled with nursing and planning.

Hannah, the doctor from a town nearby, had come over to help him with the boys. She had been a close friend of his wife and he owed her more than one favor. He had just added another one to the long list.

With great care she had examined Dean and Sam in detail, read the nicked report and even called the hospital for Dean's file.

She confirmed that Sam had just a bad concussion and explained to him that the seizure had not happened because of a possible brain injury. In fact the hospital staff had not been able to find the cause and therefore the nature of it remained unknown – at least to the medical personnel.

Bobby was well aware that Sam had had seizures before, and also very well aware of their causes. He assumed this was similar.

Hannah instructed Bobby about what to do in case he had another seizure and how to care for his concussion. She also changed the still attached IV-bags and gave him the extended 101 of how to administer drugs via syringe and IV-catheter.

Sam had come to twice, but it was brief and both times he was not really responsive.

Finally, Hannah had taken over babysitting them for an hour while Bobby went to hide the ambulance in a nearby forest.

As soon as that was done he went for badly needed supplies.

When he came back Hannah had to leave, so Bobby spent his time planning their next moves.

The doctor had made it quite clear that they'd have to stay put for a few days, until Sam was better. Transporting him like this wouldn't be a good idea, so they were stuck at the motel for the time being.

Bobby had organized a rental as well as groceries and three new burner phones.

Now that he finally had time to sit for a moment it didn't take long for nasty memories to resurface.

He tried switching on the TV to distract himself. But the news did the opposite, pictures of a burning office building refreshed his memories of his own home engulfed in flames.

It had been painful to watch his house burning down from the distance, unable to extinguish the fire because the fire starters were still nearby, hiding in the junkyard.

At that moment his first priority had been to safe Sam and Dean, he couldn't risk running into one of the monsters.

So he left, turned his back to the house he and Karen had built. It was kind of the last of her he had left.

Now even that was gone.

The curtains she had made, the furnishings she had chosen, her smell in her closet, her dresses - all gone.

He pressed a hand over his mouth to keep the grief inside and poured himself two more fingers of booze instead of eating the sandwich.

He had just taken the first sip when a small voice croaked "Bo'y?" from one of the beds.

Hastily, he stepped over to Sam's side.

Hannah and he had lifted the large man over into the bed before they took care of him, it hadn't been easy, but learning how to manhandle unconscious mates came with the job.

"Hey, nice you're joining me. I was starting to feel ignored, here."

He smiled down at the younger Winchester, "Don't move. How do you feel?"

"Head 's killing 'e," Sam gulped with effort, "What happened?"

"You were attacked. The junkyard, you remember?"

Sam tried to shake his head, but then winced in pain.

"No," he whispered a moment later.

"Banged your head pretty hard," Bobby's face was grim. "Quite a story of how we got here. You better get yourself together fast, Dean 's driving me mad with worrying about you. He needs a kick in the ass."

Sam slowly turned his head, spotting his brother on the other bed.

"Dean?"

When no answer came his frowning gaze returned to Bobby.

"What happened?"

Sam was clearly alarmed when he saw his brother motionless on the other side of the room.

"Broken leg, it's in a big cast."

"What… How…?"

Bobby knew from the tone of Sam's voice that more sleep had just been removed from the possible course of actions. Sam wouldn't rest until he knew what was going on in detail.

"Alright, I will entertain you by telling you what I know, if - and I mean it - you try _not_ to move and stay calm. Deal?"

"Deal," Sam relaxed a bit and Bobby started to talk.

But the older man was only a few sentences into describing the events when Sam checked out, falling asleep mid-question about why the monsters were so hard to kill.

Bobby made another try to eat his sandwich, this time he managed to finish it.

He then called an old friend who was really good with computers to get some more intel.

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 _A/N: If you enjoyed this, give me some feedback. Constructive criticism very welcome._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Three hours later - Dean was still out like a light - Sam stirred again, but this time he started thrashing before he was even fully conscious.

"Sam?"

When the younger man didn't react Bobby hastily disconnected the IV line from his hand, anxious he might rip it out, then padded Sam's cheek to bring him back to consciousness.

"Hey boy, open your eyes," his tone was sharp now.

But the touch seemed to only fuel Sam's panic and Bobby was also afraid he might seize again.

"Sam!" he yelled.

Sitting half the way up, legs tangled in the sheets, arm in the air as if to fight of an attacker, Sam froze, eyes wide open.

"Good boy," Bobby relaxed, but he had done so too early.

A moment later Sam tried to roll away from him in blind panic.

To Bobby's amazement he managed to not fall off the bed but to land on his feet and - Bobby didn't even have time to walk the four steps around the bed - Sam was at the door and trying to open it.

His reflexes were the ones of a hunter even only half conscious.

"Shit."

Bobby had double locked the door with the key and Sam couldn't just open it by turning the lock.

When he looked up to check how close whatever he was afraid off was Bobby could see the unadulterated, almost animalistic, panic of a cornered animal in his eyes.

"Sam?"

He raised his arms in a gesture of no-weapons-I'm-harmless but the younger man just pressed his back further into the corner. He was still dressed in the way to short hospital gown and was obviously freezing.

"Hey boy, look at me, it's me Bobby!" he tried with a soothing voice.

Then he realized Sam wasn't really looking at _him_ , but to his left, at a space between the two queen size beds.

"Are you seeing Lucifer again?"

Bobby was partially glad about this insight, it meant that Sam might be able to hear what he was actually saying and also might be able to recognize him.

"Sam! Look at me!... SAM!"

With a ragged intake of breath the younger Winchester's gaze shifted in his direction.

"Concentrate on the pain, boy…. Come on!" he pleaded.

Sam let go of the doorknob he was still holding onto and started to press his thumb into his other hand's palm, right into the scar.

But it didn't seem to help.

Sam neither relaxed nor lost the panicked look.

"Sam, concentrate on the pain! Your back is hurting, you head is, too. He's not real!"

To Bobby's relief Sam seemed to try and he stepped closer.

Sam's gaze went to the ground at his feet.

"He's not going away!"

This statement relieved the older man more than it should have. It meant Sam was aware about the situation and hearing him.

"You banged your head, it might add to this issue. Do me a favor and try to ignore him, just concentrate on me… Sam? Do it. Look at me!"

But Sam just closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the door and seemed to fight the urge to hyperventilate, baring his teeth in the process.

"It's gonna be okay, he's not real."

The next moment Sam slid down, his back supported by the corner between the door and the wall.

It happened too fast for the older hunter to try to prevent it, but although Sam's knees seemed to have given way he was not out.

Slowly, Bobby knelt down in front of his surrogate son, carefully reaching for his shoulder to keep him from slumping forwards. Sam was half sitting on his shanks, slightly turned sideways under him, his face pale and his eyes closed.

Bobby waited for his breathing to ease a bit before he spoke.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"You can manage, you did this before. Remember? Fight him, block him out, ignore him, use the pain to keep him away."

"No' workin' any longer," Sam muttered.

"We need to get you back to bed. Think you can get up with my help?"

"Err."

"That a yes or a no?"

Sam nodded slowly, wincing in pain when he did.

"Bet that hurts, come on, very slowly."

Sam was trembling by now, his hands blindly reaching for Bobby and allowing him to slowly drag him up and help him stand.

Dean would not be prepared to accept support like this and Bobby was glad Sam was much less stubborn and much more able to listen to reason. Also touch was maybe what was helping him with dealing with the mental manifestation of Lucifer in the room.

"Doing good, go on."

They crossed the room in baby steps, Sam was a heavy weight and barely able to keep going, but they managed.

"Sit there for a moment."

He checked the younger man over, looked at his pupils and made sure they were reacting equally.

He thought the spell was over but then Sam's breathing sped up once more.

"What is it?"

"He's bending over Dean…" Sam sounded close to tears and at the end of his personal rope.

To be sure Bobby stepped over and checked on Dean, who's pulse was slow and his breathing relaxed.

"He's fine, concentrate on me. Look at my hands, watch what I'm doing, observe in detail… or watch the TV if that is more entertaining."

It was the only thing that came to his mind at the moment. To his relief Sam did as he suggested. His gaze followed his hands, now checking if the IV catheter was still properly in place.

"Want some more ibuprofen for the head?"

Sam hummed in agreement.

"Feeling any nausea? Think you can swallow it?"

Only now that the adrenaline rush receded Sam realized how sick he felt.

He exhaled loudly, trying to figure out what was worse: no pain killer or trying to swallow it and keep it down.

"I can give it to you that way if you can't."

Bobby pointed at his hand but it took Sam an unusual long moment to understand that he meant via the IV.

"Yeah," he whispered.

So Bobby fetched some large pillows and piled them up in his back, then touched his shoulder to help him recline.

"Lay back down."

Sam did as told.

With what seemed to be a great effort of keeping his panic in check he watched the older man reconnect the line and inject the medication into it. Bobby also added another dose of the anticonvulsant the hospital had recommended just in case.

"What's that?" Sam asked, his voice tired and low.

For a long moment Bobby wondered if it was a good idea to tell Sam what had happened as long as he was in this state.

"Bobby?"

Sam's voice carried a level of alarm he needed to counteract, so he answered truthfully.

"Anti-seizure drug."

"Oh. Right…"

"You remember?"

"Flashes of it, I saw _him_ in the ambulance, then I started to feel really bad and…"

When Sam remained silent Bobby finished the sentence.

"… you blacked out… You saw _Lucifer_ in the ambulance?"

The younger Winchester hesitated, "I… Yes… Dean was there, too… Talking."

"Yeah, he was kiddo. He was trying to convince the EMT not to bring you to Sioux Falls General, but he didn't listen."

"So that was the beginning of the seizure I felt?"

"Probably. Heard those aren't nice. We escaped from the hospital, Hollywood-style,"

Bobby decided to distract him with more entertaining details.

"Dean fell out of the bed, high as a kite from the morphine," he chuckled, although it was only funny in hindsight. "Hospital from hell that place."

Sam relaxed a bit.

"There you go. Let's talk about it later, when you're able to actually listen. Want to watch some TV for diversion?"

"Yeah."

They silently watched an odd sitcom for almost half an hour before Sam slipped back into sleep.

The event left Bobby exhausted and the fact that Lucifer was still this present in Sam's mind worried him more than he'd admit. He would need to tell Dean as soon as he was back on deck.

Bobby decided trying to sleep was a bad idea and went to fix himself a strong instant coffee.

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 _A/N:_

 _When I finished this chapter, I was sure this would be the last one. Now, I am not so sure any longer._

 _Maybe I will write more later. If I can figure out how Dean will wake up._

 _I have started to dive into another fandom, one that accompanied my all my life, just never in the form of fanfiction._

 _If you are a Star Trek fan you might want to check it out._


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